


Alien Sleigh Ride

by Rueitae



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Continuation, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gen, I MEAN TECHNICALLY, Kid Fic, Kidnapping, Married Couple, Mistaken Identity, Post-Canon, cosmic joyride, goddess allura, its all good humor until the lance pov at the end, married plance, no harm befalls child, plance kid - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21938827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rueitae/pseuds/Rueitae
Summary: Bob is an immortal being. The great judge of heroes; a custodian of cosmic affairs; a pretty awesome partier and an even better friend (he doesn’t run errands for just anyone). But here on Earth tonight - on Christmas Eve - to young Leon Holt-McClain, he is Santa.
Relationships: Lance & Voltron: Legendary Defender Team, Lance/Pidge | Katie Holt
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	Alien Sleigh Ride

**Author's Note:**

  * For [artemisarya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemisarya/gifts).



> Written for [Artemisarya](https://artemisarya.tumblr.com/), who has my thanks for allowing me to feature her plance baby in this fic after a fantastic brainstorming session on the plance discord server.
> 
> Fayedove indulged me (again) with the Bob and Allura brotp throwaway line I have in here. [Please look at it.](https://rueitae.tumblr.com/post/190600785140/firstdove15-first-colored-pic-of-the-year-on)

The crisp, cool air of Earth at night is as invigorating as its sights. Plaht City’s lights, both festive and strictly illuminative, are a dazzling display that threaten to take his breath away along with the quiet stillness and peace that flying through the air brings.

Not that this is the most awesome sight he’s ever seen; not when he witnesses beautiful nebulas and imposing black holes on a daily basis. Nor is the fresh air particularly unique as he can just conjure it whenever he feels like it. And he technically doesn’t need to breathe but…

As much as Bob enjoys a good party (and oh boy could those MFE kids throw a good party) there was something very quaint about Earth that he quite liked. Though, the inhabitants could really do with renaming it to something a little more… flashy. 

It was, for one, the home of the Paladins of Voltron. Palinia sounded pretty nifty - or perhaps Voltrona? Any planet that could churn out a group of heroes like that certainly had an impressive charm to it and could handle the accolades. 

Humans weren’t _totally_ unique in the universe, but this was the first time he’s had the pleasure to mingle and see what they were all about for himself. He was a judge of heroes, observing people was what he _did_ and he was very good at it. Which is why when Allura asked him to deliver these packages, he was more than happy to oblige, particularly when he’s arrived on a night of merrymaking.

So now that his partying was over, he zooms off to make his first delivery. On the grounds of the Galaxy Garrison, just a short tic from the city, Bob maneuvers his chair to a large window, lit in a warm yellow light - the best color if he were honest. A green tree covered in decorations hides him from the occupants. Brightly wrapped boxes lay at the base of the tree in accordance with the Earth tradition he’d been celebrating that night. _Hm_ , he thinks as he toys with the tip of the red and white hat he’d been given at the party, perhaps he could leave his delivery there…

To his unexpected delight, his favorite of the Paladins is still awake and walks into the room, carrying a little boy who bears some of her likeness. The boy clings to her shoulders as she strides around the room, stopping at various objects, pointing to them.

“This is a wreath, Leon. Just like the one you made at daycare today,” Pidge says with distinct joy in her tone. Her eyes sparkle with delight, a look Bob knows very well. The Green Paladin is happy and content, living with no regrets.

Bob sighs, leaning into an armrest with fondness. He’s so quiznaking proud. She was the one to take matters into her own hands during the trial and sent the game to the final stage by legitimately tripping him up, all with the best poker face he’d ever seen. It had been a magnificent display of bravery and wit, all followed up by incredible heroism and camaraderie amongst the entire team. It gives Bob great joy to see her and her team flourishing.

The boy’s eyes shine with wonder, smile growing wide. He reaches out for the wreath hanging on a door. Pidge moves him closer so that he can touch it himself. He recoils for just a moment, the material the same as the tree in the window, perhaps a little too prickly for the tyke to handle right now. Bob is thrilled to see that for once, he’s wrong, as Leon leans forward and grabs the wreath with a full fist - he’d just been surprised. He’s just as curious and intrepid and as flexible as his parents; the mark of a budding hero.

Yes, he likes this kid a lot. Bob now sees why Allura can’t stop cooing and gushing over the child.

“Weath!” Leon exclaims, playfully sticking his hand all over the pine. 

“Aww,” Pidge coos. “That’s right!” Swiftly, she plants a kiss on his forehead. “You’re so smart and cute.”

An inner door swings open. Bob snickers as Lance gracefully glides into the room, wearing a sullied apron with the words ‘Kiss the Cook’ written in bold, red letters. “Comin’ through!” he says with authority. “Fresh batch of cookies for Santa to be delivered to the coffee table pronto!” He carefully drops the tray onto the table and whirls around, pointing dramatically at the rest of his family. “Leon! We’re going to need a glass of milk, stat!”

Still, it was a real pity they hadn’t failed the test, Bob reminisces sorely. Lance had a real talent for show-biz. They all did, really. Allura really knew how to ham up the stage when presenting prizes. (The main reason he’d agreed to run this errand for her, she’d been such a good sport helping him out on the game show on occasion.)

Leon sits up straight in his mother’s arms, a most serious and dedicated look on his face as he tries to salute, but ends up slapping the side of his forehead instead, never once dropping character.

Of course, had they failed, all realities would have been destroyed and this adorable, sweet kid would have never been born. 

Lance melts, his knees buckling just enough to keep him upright. “Aww,” he coos, tears in his eyes. “We have the cutest baby in the universe.”

Pidge rolls her eyes, cuddling with the child at the same time. “And this is why Leon gets away with everything, isn’t it Mister?” she asks with a pointed look to her son. 

“Love you, Mamma,” Leon coos with the brightest and most sincere little smile, and wraps his chubby little arms around her neck. 

Pidge bites her lip and looks in Lance’s direction, clearly trying not to cry tears of joy. “Lance, your son is a little con artist.”

Lance, however, is a mess of tears and immediately joins the impromptu family hug. “I know. We are so weak,” he admits. 

Bob sighs, feeling as content as he’s ever been watching the family moment. “Young love,” he mutters to himself. Now that was an idea for a game show! Regardless if there were any romantic feelings involved between any future heroes taking his trial, it was definitely a way to get them to talk about their feelings. If heroes couldn’t communicate and be open and honest with each other, they had no chance against whatever they face in the future. 

A high pitched squeak answers him, chattering away almost… disapprovingly. 

Bob’s face falls when he sees a portly yellow mouse, arms crossed, tapping its foot on his armrest and giving him a very stinky eye. 

Not just any mouse. An Altean mouse. 

Platt, one of Allura’s little Earthly spies. 

“What?” Bob protests. “I haven’t done a thing. I’m doing exactly what Allura asked me to do. You can tell her that.” For good measure, he pokes the little creature in the nose.

Platt sticks out its tongue at him and jumps off onto the windowsill of the Paladin household. 

With a huff, Bob arranges himself back into a comfortable viewing position. It was as if Allura didn’t think he could do the job! Well! The nerve! He’s been doing this kind of thing for _far_ longer than she had!

Back in the living room, Lance is just settling onto the couch with a book in hand. Pidge entertains Leon in her lap, already seated. 

“It’s getting a little late, a really quick read, okay?” Pidge says in a defeated tone. “Mom, Dad, and Matt are going to be here early to open gifts.”

Lance flips the book open with a flourish, a confident smirk on his face. “I didn’t get to do this last year because we were at my parent’s place and _Marco_ got the honors, _and,”_ he sideyes Leon, _“_ the year before _that,_ _someone_ decided to get a cold when he was only ten days old and scare the living daylights out of us all.” He turns a few pages, a determined expression on his face. “I am not going to skimp on family tradition, not when I finally get the chance to read it for _my_ family.”

A light sigh escapes from Pidge’s mouth while Leon has eyes only for the book, reaching out for it. It’s not a sigh of defeat, but one of acceptance and love. “All right, but you deal with Matt’s enthusiasm in the morning.”

Lance beams, smile wide and bright. He clears his throat and begins. “Twas the night before Christmas,” his voice wobbles, emotionally overwhelmed in carrying out this family tradition of his. “And all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a--”

A crash and a terrified squeak stops Lance mid sentence. Both Paladins sit with jaws dropped while Leon smiles and says excitedly, “‘ous!”

“Platt!” Lance rages, standing and pointing. “Those cookies are for _Santa_!”

It was amusing, watching the two Paladins attempt to corner the mouse. Pidge with a jacket and Lance with a winter hat, attempting to stop the creature from making off with a little gingerbread man. 

Leon is pleased to watch the entire ordeal from the couch, before his attention drifts from his frantic parents to the book Lance had dropped, putting his grubby little hands all over it. Sitting up, the child turns the pages and giggles over what must be very pretty pictures. 

Kid had priorities, Bob had to hand it to him. 

“Don’t...” Lance warns on his hands and knees. Platt hugs the cookie as if it were a shield, backed into a corner. “...You _dare_ take another bite.”

“Coran has been looking everywhere for you!” Pidge tells the mouse in exasperation. “He’s been really worried, you know?”

Platt’s ears droop in guilt, enough that Bob almost feels bad for him. After all, he’s only away from his cozy mouse-home to check on the Paladins on Allura’s behalf. 

Bob lifts a finger. “Fine,” he whines with a roll of his eyes. With a huff, he leans into his armrest. “You owe me.” 

With a snap, a Platt-sized hole comes into existence beside the mouse. Opportunistic to a fault, the little spy takes the chance to escape. 

Lance’s jaw drops. “Where did that come from?” he squeaks.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Pidge says, dropping the jacket limply onto the floor. “Not right now. I want to go to bed.”

Distraught, Lance rises to his knees. “But we didn’t finish the story…”

“Next year,” Pidge says as she holds him softly from behind. “I promise we’ll make the time next year. Let’s put Leon to bed and get some sleep ourselves.” She whispers in his ear and Lance _perks up_. 

Not expecting the decrease in volume, Bob rewinds time and this time, has a megaphone attached to his ear to hear better. The tips of own ears spin like tops.

“Well _done_ , Paladins,” he whistles. 

Lance scoops up Leon from the couch, who giggles when given a raspberry to the tummy. Bob hovers up to the second floor. Making sure his seat belt was secure, he flips upside down, staying out of sight as the lights turn on in the room. 

“Do you know what tomorrow is, buddy?” Lance asks, clearly rhetorically. 

A gasp. “Bifday!”

Pidge laughs and taps a button to play calming ocean sounds from a small music player on the dresser. “That was almost two weeks ago, Sweetheart. Tomorrow is Christmas.”

Lance places Leon in his crib, but leans in and whispers, “you still get presents.”

The child’s face lights up in delight. “Payne - ‘Teya!” he declares, lifting his arms into the air. 

Lance pales and looks to Pidge beside him. “He wants a plane to get to Altea. I didn’t get him a rocketship.”

“If Leon is getting a rocket, it's going to be _authentic_ ,” Pidge insists, arms crossed. “I don’t have time to put together scraps from work. I’ll have to work on it next year.”

Lance raises an eyebrow. “How… _authentic_ are we talking?”

“Enough to be structurally accurate. I don’t want to have to reteach him when he’s older.” Pidge leans down and gives Leon a kiss on the cheek. “Good night, Peanut. I love you.”

“Love you, Mamma,” Leon says softly, reaching to keep her bent over and returning the kiss on the cheek. 

“Okay, co-pilot is ready for bed. Are we all clear, Captain?” Lance asks as he swoops in to take Leon up under his armpits. 

The boy giggles. “Rawr!”

Pidge picks up the Green Lion plush toy from the center of the crib and places it on the side. “Good catch!” she praises. 

“All right,” Lance declares, smirking, “Now that the runway is cleared we are ready to land. Ready, Captain?”

“Yah!” Leon says through his fit of giggles. 

In a flurry, Lance lifts him up high above his head, making fighter jet noises while the boy laughs the entire time. Shortly, Leon is on his back, being gently covered by a blanket. 

“Night, Kiddo. Love you.” Lance says, leaning down to kiss his forehead. 

“Fye! Fye! Fye!” Leon shouts.

Lance visibly slumps, but acquiesces and picks Leon up, carrying him around the room above his head before settling him back down in his bed. 

“Okay, _now_ it's bedtime,” Lance says firmly. 

Leon doesn’t respond, just continues laughing. But he does grab hold of his Blue Lion plush toy. Pidge tucks him in before they both walk away.

“You have the worst airplane impression, Lance.”

“What? That’s _totally_ what an airplane sounds like!”

Bob descends for a closer look as the door creaks closed, left open just a sliver. The banter and family love is enough to tingle even his hardened heart. There’s a sense of pride reserved for heroes who have passed his trial, he can afford to be soft. 

He chuckles. “Not bad at all. I have to hand it to you, Pidge, he was worth whacking a golf ball at me for.”

“Op! Fye!”

Bob blinks, and there in the window, standing up in his crib, is the little tyke himself, staring at him with arms open wide, the gentlest smile on his face. 

“How did you get up so fast, little man?” Bob says, floating in closer. “You’re faster than the lightning round.”

He hadn’t expected to be spotted but… Bob supposes that a two-year-old seeing him wouldn’t cause any issues so long as he gets the packages delivered. Admittedly, he’s curious about the child of two Paladins - two _heroes_. Leon is an awfully cute kid, he can see why his parents dote on him so. 

Leon frowns, brows furrowed, and jumps on the soft padding of his crib. “Fye! Op! Fye!!”

“Up?” Bob asks, and gestures to himself with one set of arms. “Fly? You want to fly with me?”

“Yah!”

Thinking back to his parent’s reactions to being on the game show, Bob feels like they (and Allura) would disapprove of him taking the child on a joy ride. 

Leon bites his lip, a pleading, sorrowful look on his face. 

“Ah crackers,” Bob says in exasperation. Gently, he grants the child’s wishes and scoops him up with all four of his arms. Leon looks at the ground in amazement as Bob bounces him softly in his lap. “How can I possibly say no to such a cute kid?” 

With a snap of his fingers, Leon floats beside him, strapped securely to a miniature version of his own chair in teal. 

“So Kid,” he begins, leaning to the side Leon floats on. While he was here, he may as well do his job and scout potential heroes. Nothing fits that description better than getting to know the child of two of them. “Where do you wanna go?”

Leon beams. “Unt!”

Bob has no idea what Leon is saying, but he can tell what the boy is thinking. The image of yet another hero flashes across his mind - big, yellow, friendly. 

“Ahh, Uncle Hunk, eh? Excellent choice.” Bob nudges him. “Hey, what do you say you help me make my deliveries tonight? I’ll have you back home in time for bed?”

Leon frowns. “Bu no!” he insists, slamming his little hands on his little chair. “Fye!”

A thrill he hasn’t felt since the boy’s mother tackled him to the ground and beat him at his own game surges through his veins. “You got it, Kid!”

Zipping through a planet’s atmosphere isn’t something Bob indulges in often, typically teleporting here and there. Having always existed as he is, he’s never had the thrill of doing so for the first time. Seeing Leon laughing and bouncing with delight over his first flight gives him a great sense of pride. Being able to show off is one of his favorite activities after all. 

The Yellow Paladin lives across the base and it takes only a few seconds to arrive. The lights are out and the warmth from a day full of cooking and baking still lingers in the kitchen. The smells extend to the living room, where the same kind of tree is similarly brightly decorated with wrapped boxes at its base. 

“Well, I think we leave our package with the rest of the presents, don’t you think?” Bob airs, glancing backwards to his charge. 

Leon is little help, preoccupied with the lights on his hovercraft. It spins around in place lazily with its child passenger none the wiser. 

Bob places the precious cargo beneath the tree while Leon babbles happily on. Passing a tray of cookies with a glass of milk, he grabs one in the shape of a snowman. “Don’t mind if I do!” and bites the head off of it - it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

“Hmmm,” he moans. The buttery blend of sugar and cream overwhelms his taste buds.

“Ooogay,” Leon shouts from behind. His little arms reach out and he throws his tiny body into the act of reaching forward, grunting in frustration as the seat belt refuses to give. He flips upside down and inhales, eyes bright with tears and a scream soon to follow. 

With a snap, the scream never comes. The pacifier in Leon’s mouth assures it. 

“You gotta be careful, Kid,” Bob tells him, flipping the boy upright carefully. “These things do whatever you want to a fault.”

Despite no longer being upside down, Leon is not pleased still. He rips the pacifier from his mouth and throws it with surprising strength. Rubber and plastic hits Bob’s forehead with vengeance. It doesn’t cause a bruise, but it’s more painful than Bob had been expecting. 

“No pacy!” Leon declares with a frump. 

Bob rubs his forehead. “Okay, okay, I get it. You wanted a cookie, right? Yikes, you really are your mother’s son.”

The tears stop immediately. “Oogay?” he asks hopefully, in the same breath he holds out his hands expectantly. 

“Mhm,” Bob hums. One snap later, Leon has a star shaped cookie in his grubby little hands. “You’re worse than Allura’s little spies, you know?”

Leon hardly cares and is already innocently nibbling on one of the points of the star. 

“Can’t eat and fly at the same time, your mother would kill me,” Bob relents. He doesn’t look forward to a second beating if she were to _ever_ find out about this little excursion. “We’ll take the shortcut to Uncle Shiro.”

In an instant, the living room is different. Photos of a different family stand on the mantle of the fireplace and the tree is decorated a bit less flashy than the others he’s seen tonight. Photographs of different space vessels cover the open areas of wall where there aren’t pictures of family, truly a pilot’s home. 

The real travesty was being unable to bring Shiro into the test, leaving Bob unable to get to know him. Though from what Allura has told him, Shiro would surely have passed with flying colors.

That wasn’t _fun_ though. 

Bob places the package underneath the tree and smirks to himself. After this, however, there was a good chance they’d be back in his neighborhood. 

“Two down, three to go, Squirt.”

Leon continues to happily chew on his cookie, the crumbs littered over his mouth. At being addressed, the boy looks up - past Bob - drops the rest of the cookie onto the carpet and points up. “Payne!” he shouts in delight.

On the very top of the tree is a tiny replica of what Bob can only assume is one of Earth’s space ships. Based on Leon’s enthusiasm and the way he recalls different models, it is apparent that it is something very dear to him, even at this tender age. It’s what he wants for a gift more than anything, and is the one thing that his parents won’t have for him. 

Bob’s heart breaks. 

He sighs and wraps an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, Kiddo. I’ll make sure you get your spaceship. Just as soon as you finish helping me out, okay?”

Leon’s brows knit together in part frustration and confusion. “Ay-ip,” he tries. “Pacesip.” A sniffle. “Thpacethip!”

“Aww,” Bob cooes, parking directly in front of him. “You’re doin’ great. A _thpacethip_ is exactly what I’ll get you. Promise.”

The boy’s eyes light up and tears dry up. “Thpacethip!”

Bob had only known this child for less than ten doboshes and he would do _anything_ for him. 

“We’ve got one more stop to make before I bring you back home.” A spark of excitement runs through his veins, very eager for this next visit. “Let’s go see Uncle Keith. You’re going to get to go _inside_ a spaceship.”

A blink later, they were. The quarters are small, and there is nothing festive to speak of other than tomorrow’s meal, stored in ration boxes underneath a purple cloth, made to look almost as if they were going on a picnic. It is here he gently places the package for Keith to find when he wakes. There is no noise other than the reassuring and consistent hum of the engines.

“Well, Kiddo, we’re on a spaceship,” Bob proclaims, proudly crossing one pair of arms across his chest and placing the second pair on his hips. “Whadduya think?”

But when he looks Leon’s way, there is no child. 

The very first thought that runs through his mind as his blood runs cold is how Pidge is going to hit him with a golf ball again and tackle him to the ground - that had actually _hurt_. The second is that Allura would finish the job and end his existence. 

The third thought is how he can just zap the child back to him at any time, which sends a wave of relief down his spine with a heavy sigh. 

Leon hadn’t gotten far, but distressingly had figured out his little chair moves to the owner’s thoughts. He putters along the single corridor, taking in all the sights the ship has to offer to a two-year-old. Sketches of the Paladins and other faces line the walls, all of them detailed and realistic enough to jump out of the page He finds it adorable; Keith’s mother is hanging her son’s drawings. 

“You are a sneaky, sneaky kid!” Bob chides as he catches up to Leon. “Honestly--”

Bob goes invisible the instant he hears the door slide open. A knife impales the side of Leon’s chair a split tic before he teleports the child into his arms - the chair lost as it falls to the ground, electricity arcing as it short-circuits.

Bob covers his ears as Leon lets out a scream of displeasure, getting the vague impression from his thoughts that it was too quick and too loud and he had been having fun and was taken away without warning! 

Panicking, Bob summons a stuffed toy snick into Leon’s arms. “Com’on Kiddo, it’s okay.”

Thankfully setting himself and guest soundproof was second nature, otherwise Keith absolutely would have impaled him. 

“What the… ?” Keith asks incredulously, stepping out of the shadows and kneeling before the small chair. “What is this?” 

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Krolia says, standing ready with her blaster on the opposite end of the hallway. “I’ll check the rest of the ship. The intruder can’t have gotten far.”

Keith rips his blade from the vehicle, which is the last straw for the toy as the lights go out. The Paladin examines it closely. “I feel like… I’ve seen this before.”

Bob snorts. Great artist he may be, but he’s just as bad as Lance with his memory. Seems he’ll have to help them with that later. 

Sniffling and wailing still, Leon at least clings to the stitched up snick as if his life depended on it. Tears fall on its claws and Leon’s tiny mouth sucks on its head in an odd role reversal when his father was almost the snick’s meal. 

(Not that Bob would have actually let him stay dead, after a few resurrections he’d been sure the others would figure out something.)

Bob sighs, an unfamiliar pain in his heart. He feels _bad_ for the kid, feels _empathy_. He can afford to be soft with his parents, but this kid… hasn’t had the same trials. He couldn’t judge impartially if he was attached - if he cared for the kid. 

What started as a bit of mischief has turned into a crisis. 

Well, he wasn’t going to be heartless and let the poor babe cry. The toy didn’t help - but perhaps his favorite thing would. 

“How about this view?” Bob crows. From their new position, the both of them can see the full exterior of Keith’s ship. He receives the reaction from Leon he’d hoped for: wide-eyed enthusiasm. 

“Thpacethip! Thpacethip!” Leon cries in delight, completely unaware that Bob’s power is the only thing protecting him from the vacuum of space. 

Ego inflated and getting an unexpected thrill when Leon reacts excitedly to what he shows him, Bob turns to him. “You’ve gotten to see your spaceship, but do you wanna see what’s behind door number three?”

Leon blinks in confusion.

“Something _really_ cool,” Bob elaborates and adds to sweeten the deal, “Something Mommy and Daddy haven’t even seen.”

The stars in Leon’s eyes shine just as brightly as the twin suns of Rhonvida Prime just a galaxy away. The images that run through the child’s mind are the most important people and most amazing things in his young life; the Paladins, his immediate family, spaceships, and the ice cream truck. 

A new feeling pokes at Bob’s heart. It feels like jealousy, but isn’t quite. Perhaps _maybe_ it would be nice to witness that childlike wonder firsthand, but he’s quite content with his existence. Nor does he wish for children of his own. Despite enjoying this little tagalong, he prizes his freedom far too much. Though if he had the opportunity, he’d treat Leon to any excursion he wanted, even when he’s old enough to remember. Not a father, rather a _god_ father.

That’s the feeling, one of longing. Bob wants to see what kind of hero Leon grows up to be, impartiality be quiznacked. 

There will be more visits to Earth. Maybe one day _he’ll_ be the favorite uncle, because suddenly, he very much wants to be the favorite.

In blink of an eye, Bob takes Leon to his most favorite place in the universe. The Nebula of Beginning is a sight no mortal has ever laid eyes upon. Allura caught sight of it when she received the blessing of Oriande, and now frequents it. but she is no longer mortal. 

Leon will be the first to really take it in.

Bob pats his head. “That’s the beginning of the universe, Kid,” he says, extending an arm in showmanship. “Where it all began. Your Auntie Allura is protecting it these days. The Lions are chilling in there somewhere, waiting for your parents to need them again.”

Leon cocks his head to the side, transfixed on the reds and yellows swirling slowly amongst the greens and blues. At its center, a massive black hole crackling with impossible white lightning. 

“Uh,” Leon grunts, reaching out and threatening to fall from Bob’s lap. “Weath! Un-uh!”

Uproarious laughter spills from his lips. “That’s no wreath, Kiddo! There’s nothing for you to touch, I promise.” 

The glare of defiance Bob receives is absolutely one he typically receives from his mother. Leon cranes and twists his neck to look directly at him, bottom lip puffed up as if to say ‘you’re wrong!’. 

Bob knows heroes; spends most of his time around them. The gaze of this child is pure, radiating with determination befitting the greatest of heroes. Bob realizes that to most, it may seem like just a pouting baby, but he can see more than that. He sees the spark of heroism. As he grows, he’ll learn what he wants to protect and how to rely on his friends. 

Curiosity overwhelms him. Bob very much wants to see what kind of hero Leon will grow up into. 

That _was_ well within his jurisdiction… right?

Bob chuckles and ruffles the boy’s hair. “Perhaps one day you’ll get here on your own, Kiddo. In fact, I really look forward to the day you do.”

With heroes for parents, the odds are good he’ll grow up with the right countenance. Bob grins with anticipation, even heroes needed a nudge every now and then and he’d be happy to help.

Leon raises a single eyebrow. He doesn’t understand now and won’t until he’s older - if he even remembers any of this. With a yawn the baby ceases his scrutiny and slams his little head into Bob’s chest with a whining whimper, body slumping and relaxing. 

Bob bites his lip, insides melting with warmth - it's the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. 

“Time to get you home, little hero.”

Outer space flashes to the inside of Leon’s room; everything exactly the same as when they’d left and soothing ocean sounds continue to play from the music player. 

Bob places Leon gently in his crib, the child’s eyes heavy with exhaustion and the snick plush secure in his surprisingly strong grip. Bob summons a tissue and wipes away the remaining tears from his cheeks. With a light blow from his lips, he sets the mobile above the crib in motion. Tiny, plastic spaceships will hardly be entertaining compared to what Leon has seen tonight, but that will be a problem for his parents to sort out. 

“Let’s keep this adventure our little secret, eh, Kiddo?” Bob winks. He takes the hat off his head and places it above Leon’s head, the white fluff around the rim of red barely touching the child’s hair. “You can keep a couple things to remember Uncle Bob by.” He leans against the top of the crib. “I’ll be in and out, making sure your folks are doing their job right. Who knows, maybe we’ll meet again someday.”

Leon’s eyes are shut tight, secure in the arms of dreamland. 

Bob chuckles at how adorable he finds it all. “Sleep tight, Kiddo.”

He pops into the living room, only a few flameless candles and the electric lights on the tree to illuminate his task. At the base of the tree he completes his errand, placing the green and blue bayards among the pretty boxes. 

He very well may be seeing the Paladins much sooner than expected. 

With the last of his deliveries, Bob can’t help but wince slightly as he gazes up at the numerous photographs of a happy family, a feeling of _guilt_ worming into his heart. Adults and certified heroes they may be, they’re still just a bunch of kids to him, even if they have kids of their own who depend on them. Saving the universe is a dangerous business and there’s a very real possibility little Leon could grow up without his parents it everything went wrong. 

He’s supposed to be a neutral entity, living in the spur of the moment and testing heroes accordingly. Yet…

No. He can and will make an exception for heroes who have already passed his trial. That softness he feels for the Paladins can afford to turn into something more… tangible should they get into serious trouble. He owes it to Leon for being such a good helper tonight. 

Speaking of which…

He snaps a rocketship into existence, decked out to Pidge’s favored specifications and Lance’s more stylistic flair. It fits snugly under the tree next to the bayards, a little red ribbon tied around it. 

Giving gifts sends a thrill up his spine... not unlike the anticipation of hosting a trial. New heroes brought new faces and reactions, as will these gifts. Why not give the parents something fun as well!

A few squeaks of disapproval interrupt Bob just as he finishes his task. 

“What?” he says, crossing his arms in a huff. “I’m just leaving some gifts! They’re harmless!”

Platt glares suspiciously and takes a nibbleof his cookie while never losing eye contact. 

“Hey, I saved your little mousey behind earlier. _And_ ,” he continues smugly, “I’ll even give you a ride home, if you ask nicely.”

In a few strongly worded squeaks, Platt reminds him that he is here to make sure the family is doing well and that the only other place he’d rather be is in Hunk’s kitchen. 

“Suit yourself, then.” Bob shrugs, summoning a pair sunglasses and swim trunks. “I’m back off to the beach.” And a nice time at the beach it will be, once he has video of the Paladin’s reactions to their gifts at his disposal. 

It will also give him some time to plan his next adventure to Earth.

~~~~~

Lance’s first thought when he wakes is that he feels remarkably more rested than he can ever remember - no alarm, no crying baby, no headache, just _rested_. 

It’s ten-o'clock in the morning according to the blinking red lights on his nightstand. 

Lance hasn’t slept in this late since skipping classes at the Galaxy Garrison, before Voltron. 

It takes him a while to realize, but when does, he gasps and shoots up in bed. “We slept in!” he yelps. 

Pidge groans beside him. “That’s your problem,” she mumbles into her pillow, hair a beautiful frizzled and unkept mess. “Mr. I-can-keep-going.”

“No. No no no no, I mean we _really_ slept in, Pidge,” he yelps, throwing the comforter off of him and jumping to the floor. He throws on his robe, a million thoughts about Pidge’s family coming any minute, why Leon is still asleep-- oh quiznak Leon never sleeps in this late! 

He runs into his slippers as he opens the door, hearing Pidge’s shrieking ‘Quiznak’ as he slides over to Leon’s room. 

His son is fine and Lance deflates with relief at the side of the crib. Sleeping soundly with his plush alien toy and Santa hat, it’s still strange for him to be sleeping so much, especially since he hadn’t woken the two of them at all--

“Pidge,” he says hoarsely. “When did we get Leon a Santa hat and a plush toy of a grotesque alien predator?”

“Lance!” Pidge yells in response from downstairs. “You’re going to want to see this!”

Leon still soundly asleep, so Lance putters down the stairs. Nevermind she’s in her robe and pajamas, the sight of his wife holding her _bayard_ again takes his breath away. To see her with it after so many years thinking the Lions took the weapons with them stuns him to the core. 

“Is - is that really--?”

Pidge nods. As if she were never parted from it, the bayard glows green and transforms into her katar. She meets his gaze, a far off look in her eyes that Lance recognizes as his own feelings. It is as if they’ve been transported back to their teenage years, but now, they’re older, wiser, and far more conscious than ever what’s at stake.  
  
“I thought the Lions took them.”

“So did I,” Lance responds immediately. “How…”

The phone rings. Lance taps the answer button and Hunk’s face appears on the screen. 

“Dude,” Hunk breathes, looking and sounding utterly stressed. “You will never guess what was under my Christmas tree this morning.”

“Your bayard,” Lance replies limply, as numbly as he feels over the shock. 

Hunk’s jaw drops. “How did you know?” He gasps. “You guys too?”

Lance turns and finds Pidge at his side. She reaches out to him, and suddenly the familiar, comforting weight of the _blue_ bayard rests in his hands, as if it _belonged_ there.

“Us too,” Pidge supplies for him. “I wonder if we all did…”

The phone rings for a second time and Lance adds the call to the current one on instinct. Shiro’s face appears on a screen above Hunk’s. 

Shiro looks like he wants to cry. “Did… did you guys…?”

Pidge holds up the green bayard. “We did.”

Shiro lifts the black bayard into view. Lance sucks in a breath. He can’t imagine what that must mean for him, after not piloting the Black Lion in the very end and how much he reveled in the Paladin role. The thought alone nearly puts _him_ in tears.

The phone rings for the third time. Lance, feeling much less numb than before, answers as a third screen joins the call. “Yes Keith, we all got our bayards back too.”

Keith, dressed in his Blade of Marmora uniform, doesn’t even get to open his mouth and just glares. The entire situation is eerily reminiscent of their early days of Voltron. 

Except that Shiro’s hair is white, Allura isn’t with them, and Leon’s waking cries for his mother come in clear through the living room baby monitor. 

“I’ll be right back,” Pidge says swiftly, before running up the stairs.

“That’s not the only weird thing that happened to me,” Keith says. He holds up a saucer shaped object that reminds Lance an awful lot like Leon’s little play center. “Mom and I found this in the middle of the ship, with noises. Someone was on the ship.”

Hunk raises an eyebrow. “So… someone broke into your ship while on a top secret mission and left a toy?”

Shiro snorts as Pidge descends the stairs with Leon in her arms, still waking up. “Maybe it was Santa Claus.”

Leon perks up, mouth open wide. “Anta?!”

“The bayards… well, at least we knew are connected to the Lions, and the Lions do their own thing,” Pidge continues, adjusting Leon’s weigh on her hip. “What’s weirder is that Lance got me a _putter_ for Christmas and I don’t even play golf.”

Lance swears his heart stills. “Pidge… I didn’t get you a putter.”

Pidge’s mouth gapes. “You didn’t get Leon the toy rocket either,” she states.

“Okay, so,” Hunk interrupts, “We all got our bayards back. Why?”

“Are the Lions coming back?” Keith ponders. 

“Or,” Lance wonders aloud as he grips his bayard tight, his voice cracking as he locks eyes with his blissfully unaware and happy son, “do they want us to come to them?”

“In either case we’ll be ready,” Shiro says, sending a shiver down Lance’s spine. It’s been far too long since he’s heard Shiro’s command voice - his Voltron command voice. “Sorry to ruin Christmas, but I think we all need to meet in person. Keith, how soon can you be on Earth?”

“Ten varga,” Keith responds right away. “Go ahead and get started without me.”

“The Atlas in ten varga then,” Shiro nods. His gaze lingers on Lance for just a few tics, and smiles. “Take all the time you two want, Leon is probably anxious to get at his toys.”

Pidge smiles, her face far more slack than even a few tics ago. “Thanks, Shiro.”

Shiro ends his portion of the call, as does Keith. Hunk lingers with a wavering smile. “I’ll cook up a dinner for all of us, at least make it seem more like the holidays.”

Hunk disconnects as Leon gasps in delight, looking past them both and towards the tree. “Thpacethip! Thpacethip!” 

Pidge’s eyes go wide. “You almost said it!” she beams. “Spaceship. Can you say spaceship?”

“Thpacethip!”

Pidge carries Leon into the living room and sets him down, where he immediately waddles over to hug and rip the bow off of his brand new spaceship toy. Lance slowly follows, eyes glancing to the bayard in his hand.

It was supposed to be over. Allura’s sacrifice was meant to ensure that. He squeezes the bayard - so hard Lance thinks it might break, though he knows it won’t. 

Leon knocks the toy over and proceeds to drag it across the carpet in the living room. Lance’s heart does flip flops. He has so much more to fight for now - to live for. 

A hero, the universe called them. 

At least they had each other - and he didn’t need some space-god to tell him that.

Tiny saucer. Putter. Alien toy. Santa hat. Rocketship.

… _wait a minute_ …

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://rueitae.tumblr.com/)


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